


An Unnatural Disaster

by spudsupremesourcream



Series: Becile x Xo [2]
Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Body Horror, Crack Fic, Don't Read This, Eventual Smut, Headcanon, M/M, Mpreg, Multi, Oh I am so sorry for this, Unhealthy Relationships, Unplanned Pregnancy, sexpg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28582557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spudsupremesourcream/pseuds/spudsupremesourcream
Summary: The mother of Ignatius Becile has never been revealed. We aren't even sure if Ignatius himself knows who his mother is. Sometimes it’s best to keep it that way.
Relationships: Original Character/Thadeus Becile
Series: Becile x Xo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915546
Comments: 17
Kudos: 3





	1. Foreign Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is your last warning, I am not responsible for your sanity after you read this, you could literally go your whole life without reading this.  
> Turn back now before it's too late.  
> ...  
> No? Okay, uh, this is catering specifically to me, myself, hi just for me, for my headcanon of Ignatius Becile's mother. I designed my own idea of what Ignatius looks like and didn't mention why he looked like that for fear of judgement so ahhhh here you gooo, you guys wanted me to post more of my writing and I'm sure you didn't mean it like this but you also didn't specify so ha... I told myself this would just be an idea I had while writing Lock and watching Mother! but here we are now, I've been writing down pieces of this for a couple months now and I finally got the balls to actually post something,,, Thank the weatherman for the name, though I might still change it because I'm worried it's too similar to the name of another, incredible fic: Artificial Life and Other Unnatural Things, which I highly recommend, it's hella canon in my book,,,

So far, he had blown through most of the dishes.

The inky blackness of the night sky poured in from the open window above the sink, but was cast away by the illumination of the small lamp resting on the chopping block. Xo yawned and splashed water over the edge of the last pan to wash away the remaining suds. His eyelids drooped. He wanted nothing more than to shutter the windows, shed his clothes, and rest. This was the type of tired that needed a good night’s sleep...

Xo yanked the rubber stopper from the bottom of the sink and took the moment needed for the water to drain to close his eyes and lean closer to the window while he towel dried the pan, desperate for the coolness of earth's breath to exhale through the framed aperture before him. His skin was sticky; his forehead lightly beaded with sweat. Lately, the heat had reached such intensity that Xo felt sick because of it. Frequent nosebleeds, throbbing headaches, bouts of dizziness. It was enough to make him seriously regret moving to San Diego. He wondered if it was this blistering hot in the California of his own dimension. He did miss home- his family, his friends...

A subtle breeze reached through the open window, catching onto the waiting curtains and tussling Xo’s curls.

“Oh  _ meno male _ ...”

Closing his eyes, a breath of relief escaped his parted lips. The pleasant crispness of the air was so refreshing as it gently caressed his skin, lifting the damp hair at his temples. He could stand here forever...However, something shook him from this state of relaxation, something so sudden and disturbing that he almost dropped the pan.

A sort of fluttering sensation swarmed his core, slightly stretching the skin of his stomach.

He froze, trying to make sense of what he had felt as the dying breeze began to fail. Xo transferred the pan to one hand and carefully pressed his other fingers into his side and stomach, feeling around for any abnormalities that could be causing these little flutters. He glanced at the clock: almost midnight. He was just tired, he supposed, tired and the heat was getting to him...

He pressed one last time, just below his navel point, and his fingertips were met with resistance. Whatever was there, was pushing back again.

All of the air knocked out of his lungs, the color drained from his face and the pan clattered to the floor. Without a moment's hesitation, he took off running- not even bothering to retrieve the skillet as he sprinted to the nearest bathroom, his heavy boots clunking on the marble floors while he quickly reached behind himself to untie the back of his shirt.

In his mind, he was pleading to whatever higher power was out there;  _ begging  _ that Becile had already retired to his room for the night or that he was even still in his office. He could not run into him, not right now.

Upon reaching the door, he fumbled with the knob before finally making it inside. Slamming the door behind him, he stood on the tips of his toes and tugged the front of his shirt open to observe his stomach in the mirror. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but whatever it was would surely be easier to identify now...

He brushed his fingertips over the surface but stopped, crinkling his brow. The color of his fingers differed from his stomach. He held his hand beside his abdomen and turned a different direction to be sure it wasn’t just the lighting, but it stayed the same. Compared to his regular complexion, the skin was muted, almost, similar to a time-touched red dress faded pink, or worn-away words on a frequently handled page. And if he wasn’t mistaken (and at this hour, he might have been) the skin was so pale that it was nearly...green.

He watched as the skin of his stomach distorted yet again, something on the inside pushing out against it. A high pitched ringing flooded his ears, followed by blobs of darkness threatening to close his widened eyes. He swallowed, nausea he had previously associated with heat creeping its way back into his core. Placing one paled, trembling hand over his mouth and the other on the sink, he locked his knees and stood deathly still. He was panicking, his heart beat a mile a minute.  _ Parasite, tumor, radiation side effects...  _ Did the trip from his dimension to this one alter something? If it did then why was a reaction happening  **now** ?

His mind was racing; he couldn’t stop thinking. He wasn’t entirely sure if he was even awake at this point, maybe he was just dreaming. Having already dealt with a brain tumor, he dreaded a second one, no matter where it was. A parasite was bad news all around, and a negative reaction to this practically unknown form of radiation was even worse. No outcome of this was good.

Tears stung his eyes. His throat began to close. Blood pounded in his ears. He had to get away. He wanted to leave. He hadn’t the slightest idea where he would go, but he wanted to leave. Had it been morning, he might have gone to take a walk, but right now he had nowhere to run and that truly frightened him. The problem was inside him, he couldn’t run away from it.

He started to cry. A tightness built up in his chest- he could hardly breathe- and so snowballed the trademark beginnings of a panic attack into an onslaught of dread.

_ Is a symptom of radiation hallucinating? Am I hallucinating, can you feel hallucinations?  _

He wrapped his arms around himself, digging his nails into the flesh of his biceps, and stumbled backwards, startling himself when his back hit the wall. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion; he felt so sick. He couldn’t even look down.

_ Is this what radiation poisoning is like? Am I dying, is this going to kill me? _

He cried harder, his chest growing tighter as bile rose in his throat. Clenching his fist, his nails cutting into his palm, he pressed a hand to his mouth in a desperate attempt to muffle his sobs.

The floor was too cold. The air was too hot. The room was too open. The walls were too close. He wanted someone there with him and for everyone to stay away from him. Go. Stay. Run. Hide.

The next thing he knew, he was on the floor; the sudden coldness of the tile hauled him back to reality. He gasped for a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as his eyes frantically searched the room for something to focus on.

_ Mirror. Sink. Toilet. Four walls. Floor - square, diamond, line, square, diamond, line... _

He repeated the pattern of the tile until the pain in his chest subsided to an ache. He rubbed his forehead, just glad he collapsed without his head meeting the floor. Pulling the shoulders of his shirt back up, he made a point to take deep breaths to try and calm his heart rate, but he still felt rather dizzy and he knew he needed to lie down.

He gathered what strength he had left to scrape himself off the cold floor, feeling lightheaded for a moment before he was able to make it to the door. However, as soon as he twisted the knob, the movement returned. 

Immediately, tears welled up in his eyes. “Oh...” He whimpered, placing a hand on his stomach. _ God, just please stop, _ he thought as he slunk to his own room for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every day i stray further from the light


	2. Quarrels Over Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again. Four people have read this monstrosity- or at least clicked on it. To those four people, if you're still here...hi :D  
> There are a few headcanons of mine in this, just so you know ahsksl I didn’t realize other people read my stuff- other than the ones from my Instagram,,, and for those who don’t know, Xo is the chef of Becile Industries, he makes meals for workers and any special guests but started out just doing them for Becile while he was receiving radiation treatment for his brain cancer

Six in the morning, every morning, Xo got up to prepare breakfast.

He didn't bother to ask Thadeus what he wanted anymore because he never asked for anything more than a black coffee, so Xo took it upon himself to make things he thought Becile would like.

Bleary-eyed, Xo filled a small brass kettle with water and settled it atop the lit stove.

He had trouble sleeping last night, spending most of it flipping through medical textbooks and English-to-Italian dictionaries after managing to gather his thoughts. He attempted to debunk the possible source of the symptoms he had experienced thus far. The first, glaring option was pregnancy, but that was easily ruled out...nonetheless, the thought was ever present in the back of his mind. _A tumor doesn’t move, it was too large to be considered a parasite,_ he thought, _and much too small to be considered an active baby, which, of course, it wasn’t..._

However, taking into consideration the symptoms he had been experiencing and the series of events prior to the fluttering, he was fairly certain it was indeed the latter of the three, no matter how ridiculous it seemed...

He didn’t feel good. Now that he knew it might be there, it was all he could think about.

He poured a handful of coffee beans into the grinder and twisted the handle, watching the grounds fall to the bottom of the glass container. Xo crinkled his nose. It smelled _horrible_.

He opened the container and recoiled. “M-mm...” He placed his hand over his nose and mouth. The scent of coffee made his stomach churn. He swallowed; his tongue was bitter. “Oh god...” He held onto the countertop and tried to steady his breathing. His stomach felt sour, and he knew that if he didn’t cool down soon, he would be sick.

He quickly pushed up the sleeves and parted the front of his cardigan to allow fresh, cool air from the open window to soothe his body temperature, before realizing that simply wasn’t enough and scarpering for the sink. Pulling his hair back with one hand, he splashed water onto his face and neck with the other.

He couldn't take much more of this...He refused to vomit, if he could convince himself not to.

The whistling of the kettle brought his focus back to reality.

“Fuck...” he grumbled, drying his face with the arm of his cardigan.

Then he poured the hot water into a press pitcher with the fresh coffee grounds, the swirls of steam rising up to stroke his face. He grimaced at the heat.

The coffee would sit while he sawed off a thick slice of rosemary bread, the crust crackling under the knife's serrated blade, and popped it into the oven, one side lightly buttered so it wouldn’t dry out while it toasted. In the meantime, Xo settled a trembling hand on his bare midriff and took a deep breath. “Oh what am I going to do with you,” he sighed softly and turned to glance out the open window above the sink. 

At the time, nature was at its best; when day begins to cast away the cloak of night. The first rays of sun were cool and bracing to the eyes; birds sang to its shine as everything bathed in golden light, plants feasting on the rays.

The little bump pressed back against Xo’s palm.

“Oh hello...” He turned his attention to the tiny swell of his stomach, removing his hand from atop it. “What, am I bothering you? You’re not supposed to be moving like that, you are much too little...”

 _You’re not supposed to be there at all,_ he thought to himself.

He was beginning to smell the bread from the oven so, to prepare for it, he pulled open the door of the icebox, a soft sigh exiting his throat as the cool air that escaped reached his face and chest, and grabbed a mason jar of sour orange marmalade he’d made a couple days ago.

After slathering marmalade onto the toast and pouring the pressed coffee into a mug, he began his journey to Becile’s office, his bare feet pattering on the cold marble floors, the bottom of his carmine cardigan lightly brushing the floor as it trailed behind him. He squeezed his eyes shut then opened them wide in an attempt to stay awake and yawned; he could practically feel the need for sleep yanking at the circles under his eyes.

Upon reaching the office door, Xo stopped, took a deep breath and sighed.

_Please stay still..._

He balanced the small plate on top of the mug and reached out to twist the doorknob, though he couldn’t get past the doorway. Thadeus was sitting at his desk, flipping through a book. Xo’s heart skipped just looking at him, knowing what he knew now. He felt sick. He didn’t want to see him right now, he needed to figure things out before he said anything. But he knew he couldn’t just stand there.

Xo cleared his throat and stepped into the room, making his way to Becile’s desk. He set the mug down and removed the plate to sit beside it.

“Thank you.” Becile’s tired, crackly voice mumbled.

Another wave of sickness washed over Xo. He felt dizzy. “Oh...” He moaned. His heart sped up.

_No no no no no..._

Thadeus glanced up at him. “Alright-“ He quickly stood up. “Sit down. Sit.”

Xo hesitated, shaking his head; he wanted to leave. He wanted to leave so badly...

“ **Now**.” Thadeus said firmly.

Xo’s knees weakened and the edges of his vision blurred. “I’m fine.” He insisted, sitting down anyway.

“You are positively green, and that’s coming from me.” He placed a hand on Xo’s forehead. “Have you checked your temperature?”

“I have.”

“And?”

“Normal...”

“Mm.” Becile stood back and crossed his arms, shaking his head. “Possibly a head cold or something similar.”

“Of course.” Xo nodded and quickly moved to get up. “I’m going to go back to my room and lie down for a little while-”

Thadeus placed a hand on Xo’s shoulder, convincing him to sit back down. “You’re hiding something.”

The man paused, a sudden tautness assailed his middle. “I am not.”

“You are.”

Xo dug his fingernails into the wooden arms of the chair. He felt his skin flush into a cold sweat.

“Who else are you going to tell?” Thadeus placed a hand on top of his black curls, taking a handful and tilting the other man’s head back. “What are you hiding from me, hm?”

Xo bit down on his bottom lip, staring up at Thadeus as a long moment of silence passed.

“I need you to listen to me.” He said finally.

Thadeus crinkled his brow and removed his hand. “Alright.”

“I don’t know what is happening...” Xo’s eyes burned; he felt like his stomach was carousing with his kidneys. “You’re going to think I’ve lost my mind,” he sighed, shaking his head.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” Thadeus said, crossing his arms.

Xo took a deep breath. “I want you to know that whatever you want me to do, I will do it.” He was trembling, pale and afraid. “Oh god, don’t make me say it...”

“Xo, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what is happening.”

“Of course, but you don’t know how difficult this is to say. A-and you- the thought of- what you might think- I...” Xo stuttered. “I think...there might be a possibility that...that I’m pregnant.”

Becile raised his brows and blinked. “I...I’m sorry?”

His reaction sent Xo into a spiral. “Or maybe it’s something else- I just keep thinking- what I’ve felt- and I read some books- I don’t know, I’m-“

Thadeus stopped him. “You think you’re _pregnant_?”

“Yes- n-no- well-”

“That isn’t biologically possible, unless you’re-”

“I’m not, never have been.”

“Then there is no way of you being pregnant, that’s asinine.” Becile said finally.

“Thadeus, I don’t know what’s going on or, trust me, I would tell you; you’re all I’ve got. Do you know how terrifying it is having something wrong with your body, feeling something _move_ where nothing is supposed to move, and have no idea what the cause is?” he hiccuped, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. _Dammit_ , he thought to himself as he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, aggravated at his emotions.

“Relax.” Thadeus pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his vest and handed it to Xo. “You are not pregnant. From an anatomical standpoint, that is quite literally impossible- and even if there is some hairbrained way that you are, if you’re feeling movement then you must be at least four to five months, and there is no way you’re showing to be that far along.”

“That’s what I thought, but just think about it, Becile. I have been affected by green matter: I have received multiple doses of radiation, as well as injections. We don’t know what green matter does to people, it’s an experiment- _I_ am an experiment. And I’m showing symptoms of something that I have never experienced before.” Xo clutched the handkerchief. “If it’s yours, that would be a _lot_ of green matter...”

“Green matter aids in inanimate movement and reanimation...” Becile brought a hand up to cover his mouth as he thought.

Xo’s blood ran cold. Was he actually considering this? If Becile was stumped on this, what did that mean for him?

“It moves on its own...but it wouldn’t have the power to rearrange biological-anatomical factors, that’s...that’s beyond its control. How long has this been happening?”

“It happened last night...” Xo picked at the sleeve of his cardigan. “I’ve felt nauseous for a while, though this is the first time I’ve felt movement... and that made the nausea worse.”

“You’ve felt nauseous for a while? So you just weren’t going to say anything, you weren’t going to tell me anything was happening?”

Xo frowned. “Oh fuck off, Becile, what was I supposed to say?! ‘I feel nauseous, hot, and tired all the time’? ‘I think I might be pregnant even though it’s impossible and you will probably think I’m insane’??”

“Yes, you imbecile!” Thadeus snapped. “You said it yourself: you’re an experiment and you have been showing symptoms of something you have never experienced before, don’t you think you should have enough sense to tell someone about that?!”

Xo stood up from the chair, his jaw tightening. “I’m so sorry I’m not as brilliant as you are to immediately think about recording information for an experiment but I was worried about dying- because god forbid it was another tumor or some other type of cancer, and you aren’t exactly the most comforting person in the world, so forgive me that you weren’t the first person I thought of!” He tossed the handkerchief onto the desk. “And trust me, had I known this was possible then I wouldn’t have let it happen at all.” With that, he stormed off, the office door slamming behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You get to meet Licorice in the next chapter... lucky...


	3. Bitter-Sage Steep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, ten people have looked at this...hi...and everyone who's commented- hi, ily...  
> For those who don’t know, I headcanon Thadeus had a little black cat named Licorice (since Peter VI has Marshmallow, the giant white cat). Licorice just showed up when Thadeus was younger, and has followed him (and later the whole Becile family line) ever since. She has been known to phase through things like walls and doors, adores Thadeus, and enjoys small pieces of chicken...

Becile shut and locked the office door and began walking down the hall, Licorice at his feet while he dropped the key into his pocket. Suddenly, Licorice crossed in front of him, making him stumble a bit, and phased through one of the doors. Thadeus stopped and sighed. It was Xo’s room. He could hear the man mumbling to the cat, who chirped cheerfully back at him.

“Licorice, leave him be,” Thadeus told the cat through the door. The cat meowed defiantly.

Becile frowned and pulled the watch from his vest pocket. One o’clock. He needed to leave soon.

Debating whether or not he should pursue this, if he should try to talk to Xo or if he should leave it alone to avoid the risk of being late, he slid the watch back into his pocket. If he left now, he may find trouble when he returned as he wasn’t sure what Xo was capable of. He took a deep breath and twisted the doorknob. Locked. “Xo?” He gently knocked on the hardwood. “I apologize for snapping. In case you can’t tell, I’m not a very empathetic person. I wish I was.” He paused to rethink the statement. “No, I don’t, I would be more miserable than I already am... but I am sorry. I was overwhelmed.” He grabbed the doorknob and tried it again. “Please say something...”

A long moment of silence passed, and Thadeus was about to leave, until the knob turned and the door opened. Xo stood in the doorway, his eyes were red and puffy, his lips cracked. He was dehydrated, and visibly upset. “I should have told you earlier...” he mumbled, making his way back to sit on his bed. Licorice meowed at him and stood on his lap, bonking her head to his chest until he agreed to pet her.

Becile stepped in. “No, you didn’t know what it was, it could have just been the stomach flu. I understand that you didn’t want to bother me. However, I would like you to know that you can tell me anything. Don’t be afraid to speak to me. Alright?”

Xo kept his head down and nodded silently.

“Have you done anything about it?” Becile asked.

Xo ran his fingers over Licorice’s inky fur in silence for a long moment while she nudged her forehead to his stomach. “I thought about it,” he muttered. “Last night, I did... Tansy oil, turpentine, pennyroyal. I didn’t know...if I should...”

Becile shook his head. “Pennyroyal is toxic, tansy oil can cause irreversible organ damage, and turpentine will make you very sick. It’s not worth the risk, there are other ways to go about this.”

Licorice chirped and began incessantly sniffing the air before hopping over to the foot of Xo’s bed and staring at a mug of warm tea on the table. She growled and batted at the mug until it slipped off the edge of the table and clattered to the floor, spilling the contents everywhere.

“ _ Ehi _ !” Xo gasped and scrambled to clean up the liquid, grabbing a towel from the neighboring washroom. Becile quickly moved to pick the cat up to prevent her from causing any more trouble. The tea smelled bitter, similar to sage; he recognized it.

He looked up at Xo when he returned with the towel. “Mugwort?”

Xo froze, wide eyed, and all the color drained from his face. Becile took the towel from him to clean the tea himself, trying to be gentler with him as he knew how frightened Xo was about this situation. “Did you drink any? Be honest with me.”

A moment of silence drew out as Xo gnawed at his bottom lip until the metallic tang of blood hit his tongue. Damn cat... “No,” he muttered defeatedly. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it...”

Becile sighed as Licorice climbed up his chest to sit across his shoulders.

Xo sat back on his bed and covered his face. “What do I do...”

“What would you like to do?”

A tightness grabbed a hold of Xo’s throat. “I don’t know, I- what- I can’t raise a baby by myself here. I don’t exist in this dimension- there are no records of me here, it wouldn’t be safe- I’m.....what do  _ you _ want me to do?”

“Are you positive it's mine?”

“It would have to be.”

“You haven’t had any intercourse with anyone else in the last few months?”

“Not since before I came here, no.”

Thadeus folded the towel, crossed his arms and sighed. This conversation had been full of these awkward pauses, but this one seemed to be the hardest to sit through. Nausea overtook Xo’s stomach again, he felt his hands begin to shake.

“I, um...” Thadeus was beginning to regret not leaving earlier. “God, I have no idea, Xo, I had never even planned on having children at all.”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to, but I think...I might feel guilty  _ not _ carrying it, just because I feel it move. However, it would have to be born under your name, so-” The surface of Xo’s stomach bulged- so aggressively, this time, that it made his back arch and he gasped in pain.

Thadeus glanced over the top of his glasses at Xo, silently asking for permission to touch his stomach, a look of concern on his face, to which Xo responded by moving the sides of his cardigan out of the way, cringing at the movement inside him. Becile knelt down in front of the man and brushed his fingers over the stretched skin. “My god...” he muttered and shook his head. “It shouldn’t be this active.”

The swell slunk back then pushed specifically against Becile’s fingers. Licorice flattened her ears and hissed at it, the fur raising on her shoulders.

“Odd little one. Perhaps you were right.”

Xo raised his brows, taken aback. “I was right?”

“About green matter affecting it.” Thadeus removed his hand and looked up at the younger man. “Do you want to go through with this, yes or no?”

Xo’s stomach dropped, his breath caught in his throat as his heart pounded and his trembling hands began picking at the corner of his bedsheets. The thing, what they now were partially sure was a baby, practically rolled over inside of him, causing him to moan in discomfort. Silence hung in the air between them; Thadeus peered expectantly at him, waiting for an answer.

“I...I think so...Yes...”

Thadeus nodded and stood up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Without having real knowledge of how it got there, we have no way of knowing how it will be born; you will most likely have to have a cesarean section. We will have to find someone capable of that, which will be difficult given the circumstances.”

Xo stood up from his bed. “Do you think I shouldn’t?”

Becile opened his mouth to answer, but was cut short by the chiming of the grandfather clock residing at the end of the hall.

1:30

“Dammit!” Thadeus quickly lifted Licorice off his shoulders and set her on the floor, rushing to leave the room. “I was supposed to have been there by now.”

Xo quickly followed, as did Licorice.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Becile grabbed his coat from the rack by the front door and slid it over his shoulders. “Go ahead and make something for yourself, I will not be home before dinner.”

Xo nodded simply, watching as the other man left the manor for his meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short, boring chapter, sorry about that


	4. A War We Can't Win

_...ade_ _us?........_..... **Thadeus**!”

Becile jumped at a hand on his shoulder, startled, and looked up at the man sitting across from him in the parlor of Walter Manor.

“You alright?” The man asked, worried blue eyes searching his friend’s face.

“My apologies, Peter I’m...” Thadeus twisted the cup of coffee in his hands. “I suppose my thoughts are elsewhere.”

“That’s out of character for you.” Peter removed his hand. “I’m not asking as your colleague, I’m asking as your friend: what’s going on with you?”

Thadeus shook his head, removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. He felt a headache coming on. “I can’t say.”

Peter furrowed his brow. “Why not?”

“You would think I’d lost my mind.”

“Even more so than usual?”

Becile sighed at the tease and shook his head. “I just can’t, Peter, trust me for once...” he muttered, staring into his coffee.

Peter watched his friend for a moment. This was unlike him, though Becile was known to be grumpy, even his attempt to lighten the mood blew right over his head.

He brought his teacup to his lips. “Listen, Thadeus,” he said through a sip of tea. “I don’t think further research of green matter is a good idea.”

Becile set his cup down and rested his head in his hand. “Of course you don’t.”

“I think it’s unstable-”

“We can find a way to stabilize it.”

“-I think it’s dangerous-”

“We can find a way to harness that energy.”

“And if it fails?”

“Experiments fail, Peter, but it’s our job as men of science _to_ experiment.”

“It’s our job as men of science to research in order to advance knowledge in an area of interest, and funnily enough, I don’t think green matter is an area of interest. We have much more pressing matters to research.” Peter adjusted his teacup on the saucer. “This is incredibly risky, and I don’t think it’s worth the trouble. It is my belief that if this fails, it will fail miserably, and it could result in serious casualties. I won’t help you with it, I’m sorry.”

“Of course you won’t.” Thadeus snatched up his coat.

“Thadeus,” the other man sighed.

“-Until I find something worth really looking into, and _then_ you’ll come crawling back, won’t you?” He stood up and began to walk away. “Like you always do.”

“Becile!” Peter called after him, quickly setting down his teacup to follow his friend.

“I’m through with this conversation, Walter.” Thadeus seethed, slipping his coat on.

“I’m not, you can’t just leave-“

“I can,” Thadeus opened the door. “And I am.”

With that, Becile stormed out of Walter Manor. He’d had just about enough. Enough of Peter, enough of people, enough of today, enough of everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another hella short chapter, sorry


	5. Skipping Stone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, boring chapter and classes have been kicking my ass.  
> I hope you like my lady gargoyle,,,

Fried squash blossoms stuffed with goat cheese, served with tomato and black garlic chutney and buttery pine nuts: savory, sharp, and decadent; a delicate cup of orange blossom oolong was placed onto the coaster beside it, and a mahogany pipe was lit up in between the cold, grey fingers of Miss Sophronia, the old gargoyle of the Becile Manor. She lived in a small room on the roof, spending her days sitting on the ledge of the rooftop, surveying the area.

She settled down into her chair, the velvet crinkling under the weight, and took a puff from the pipe.

Sophronia always liked to settle down at the end of the day: the fire in her fireplace crackling away, a warm cup of tea on the table, a book in one hand and her pipe in the other.

She dragged a crisp blossom across the platter to gather up the remnants of the chutney and popped it into her mouth.

“Miss Sophronia?” A shy voice called from the doorway.

The gargoyle’s face lit up upon recognizing the visitor. “Oh, Xo darling, come in come in!” She got up and rushed to the door. “You’ll catch your death out there, lamb.” She threw the blanket over his shoulders and wrapped it around him, pulling it closed and guiding him to a plush chair like an overzealous grandmother. She meant well, and Xo certainly didn’t mind the fawning. “How are you, my darling?”

“Ill...”

“Ill?” She cooed and pressed a hand to his forehead. “How so?”

Xo was silent, simply enjoying the coolness of her fingers.

“You’re burning up,” She said. “Do you have a fever?”

“No...” He was hesitant to say; his eyes searched the kitchen behind her to buy more time, but instead locked onto one of the oranges in the fruit bowl. Suddenly, that was all he could think about, how much he wanted it.

“Xo?” Sophronia’s soft voice snapped him out of it.

He looked up at her, his mouth acting before his mind as he blurted out: “I think I’m pregnant.” 

Her pearly eyes widened. “Pregnant?”

It finally registered what he had said. “Oh- I-I know, it’s absurd, but-”

“Sh.” She placed her hands on either side of his face. “It’s alright, love, you don’t need to explain yourself to me.

Xo sighed. He was glad. He wasn’t ready to attempt to explain everything, but he did have one other thing to say.

“It’s Becile’s...and I told him...”

Sophronia paused, placing a hand over her lips. “Oh dear... How did he take it?”

“He thought I was crazy...” Xo scoffed. “But he saw it move and now I don’t know what he thinks.”

Sophronia raised her brows. “It moved? How far are you, do you know?”

“Not exactly...”

“You haven't gained any weight?”

“I haven’t been checking.” Xo pulled at the front of his shirt. “And everything I wear is either much too loose or much too tight to leave feasible pressure marks.”

All of a sudden, the front door slammed and heavy footsteps stomped down the hall.

“Right fucking bastard, son of a bitch!” A familiar voice snapped.

“Oh dear...” Sophronia cooed, a hand on Xo’s shoulder.

All the color drained from the man’s face. “He wasn’t supposed to be back until later!”

“If he wasn’t supposed to be home until later then that’s on him, darling, he’s irascible.” The gargoyle told him. “It’s not your job to console him.”

Xo chewed on his bottom lip. He wanted it to be... “I need to eat something anyway.” He said, standing up from the chair.

“Promise me you won’t go messing around?” Sophronia called out to him as he turned to leave her little room.

Xo opened the door. “I promise...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I’ll probably come back in the morning to edit this,,,


End file.
